


Silver Paint

by Legs (InsanityRule)



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-05 02:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4162908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanityRule/pseuds/Legs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Gilfoyle perspective on coworkers, relationships, and when to take the advice of a guy with no backbone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The key to assigning people a role is observation.

If he had to compare their ragtag sack of shit company to anything it would probably be The Wizard of Oz.

Take Richard, for example: while he would love to doom Richard to the role as the cowardly lion he’s reserved that role for Jared, the lamest, most spineless dork human-stickbug hybrid he’s ever met. No, Richard is Dorothy, and his ideal home is a company where he’s not being sued or threatened by ferret obsessed neighbors or stressed to the point of vomiting.

Of course he noticed the vomit he wears thick glasses but that doesn’t make him blind.

Erlich is the scarecrow, hands down. He probably considers himself the Wizard; his hands molding people’s lives for the better because of his power.

What a fucking tool.

That leaves him with the tin man, which Gilfoyle considers pretty low on the scale of life-shitting-on-your-head. No heart? Big whoop.

And of course Dinesh is Toto. Dumbass yappy dog.

If he considers Bighead for a moment, he would actually place him as the Wizard, because if anyone is going to use ridiculous technology to make their head look bigger - ha, Bighead- it would be him.

Unfortunately for Monica he can only think of one person for Glinda.

Tara. (Monica’s a close second.)

The obvious choice for Tara is the Wicked Witch - because, come on, satanist - but she’s so Goddamned bubbly and cheerful. And the reason he’s thinking of the Wizard of Oz in the first place.

She’s obsessed with the stupid movie.

They’ve watched it at least thirty times. And they’re doing it again.

Every damn time she recites Glinda’s lines.

Personally he’s partial to the flying monkeys.

The movie’s okay.

He saw Jared watching over their shoulders from the hallway around the time everything got color. There were some soft murmurs during Over the Rainbow that wasn’t Tara. If the lurch wants to be a voyeur that’s his prerogative.

Then a higher, jittery as fuck stressed out voice gets his attention. He checks his phone, using the reversed camera to watch Richard coax Jared out of the hallway, one hand on Jared’s lower back.

Weird.

And noteworthy.

“Oh, can I take a picture!” She’s already pressing her chest against his arm and smushing their faces together.

Honestly, the pre-Wizard tin man had the right idea.


	2. Chapter 2

If he didn’t have such a good memory he would probably write down all the weird happenings between the resident Lion and Dorothy.

Social observation is an underutilized skill in this company.

Really has everyone forgotten good old fashioned emotional blackmail?

Then again that requires these degenerates to get girlfriends, or in Richard’s case a Jared, so underutilized might be a strong word.

He does, however, start a tally in his head of all the public displays of affection they keep doing around the house. It’s annoying because they think they’re subtle, but if Richard wants to fuck a tree that’s his decision.

But still, he’s made a list.

Hugs: Three. That he’s seen at least.

Shoulder touch: Probably their favorite thing, maybe five hundred or so.

Smiles in that gross way: Too many.

So it’s not a perfect tally.

But still he’s gotten a lot of interesting information.

“You should probably get some work done.”

She’s probably right. Three is a bit late to still be lying around in bed.

“Nah. Richard’s too much of a chicken shit to come in here.”

“Gilfoyle that’s so rude. You promised Richard.”

“Not true.”

Maybe it’s not true. He honestly can’t remember or be bothered to care.

“But he needs you.” Ah, good old flattery. She knows him so well. “And I want to take a bath so,” and the truth comes out. Really a bath sounds way better than working.

“Better plan, fuck working. I’ll join you instead.”

“Maybe later.” She’s twirling her hair and smiling, basically a yes. “But you have to help first.”

Is working for a couple hours worth taking a bath with Tara? He shrugs, pulls on a pair of shorts from his hamper and leaves the room without bothering to find a shirt.

Richard throws his hands up. Always with the theatrics. “Jesus fuck Gilfoyle. Where were you?”

“Pegging.”

The important detail here isn’t the truth. It’s the mental picture. These asshats don’t know what that means, which means they’ll look it up, which means they do most of the work horrifying themselves.

For example, Richard’s mouth is hanging open and his forehead is wrinkled and Gilfoyle nods in satisfaction. He looks at Gilfoyle and his mouth moves, but he can’t make a sound. A great success.

“The fuck Gilfoyle!” Dinesh gets up from his computer and storms out of the room, nearly barreling into Tara as she walks towards the kitchen.

“What’s wrong with Dinesh?”

“Explosive diarrhea.”

Honestly some of his best descriptions are short.

“Oh no! I might have something that can help. Dinesh!” And off she goes to humiliate Dinesh with kindness. Perfect.

“Ha.” He turns to Richard, who’s busy looking like he’s going to throw his precious laptop across the room. “What.”

“Wh-why?” Richard covers his face, but he can’t hide from his thoughts. “Are you just fucking with us?”

He’ll never tell.

“Figured you’d be the most into it out of anyone here.”

“Oh ha fucking ha.” Richard packs up his laptop. “I need to talk to Jared about… work.”

He watches Richard leave to go cry on his maybe-boyfriend. “Yeah I bet you do.”

What a productive day at work.


	3. Chapter 3

He’s contorted on the couch sipping at a beer when Dinesh storms over.

“Did you tell Tara I have explosive diarrhea?”

Did he? Gilfoyle looks up for a moment. He holds up a hand and points, “yes.”

“Fuck… why?”

“Why not?”

Dinesh starts yelling and he tunes out most of the words.

“... offered me fucking med-”

Maybe he should get another beer, pretending to drink his empty is getting old.

“Erlich right there-”

Yeah, definitely time for another beer.

“Not a five year old-”

You have to love a woman that thoroughly emasculates a man without trying.

He makes it all the way to the kitchen before stopping dead in the middle of the room.

“Shit.”

As a post-wizard tinman, he is royally fucked.

\--

It’s not the most startling revelation.

He’d give it about a three on the scale of things-that-fuck-your-perceptions-with-a-rake. Nothing too jarring. And Tara’s back home for now, so nothing he has to address right away.

But it is more interesting than watching the stupid condor egg hatch.

Jared’s been squealing every time it moves. “Oh any minute now!”

And Richard is staying awfully close to the resident ostrich.

Jared gasps. “Richard! The first crack!”

And that’s his queue to monitor the servers.

It’s nothing too stellar, several thousand bird enthusiasts, but everything looks great. As great as a gross featherless glop can look. When it peeps Jared starts to fucking cry. Of course.

They peak at around forty thousand when the mother returns.

The excitement could kill.

Or is that boredom he’s feeling?

Still, partway through the stream Richard gets a call from the museum and they get their first client.

In the midst of the initial celebration he watches Dinesh run off to grab everyone some beers, Erlich light up his scramble maze bong, and Jared and Richard-

Huh.

He quickly snaps a photo of his CEO making out with the stick bug and feigns ignorance.

Most important part about having blackmail material? Knowing when to use it.


	4. Chapter 4

Of course he’s the only one that saw anything.

No one else says anything over the next week and those two lovesick shitheads keep staring at each other while grinning like idiots. There’s a dorky sort of chemistry between the two of them that reminds Gilfoyle of two teenagers. They probably thought they were discreet.

Not even close.

The thrilling whirlwind of actively setting up a second stream for some tiger cubs keeps his hands preoccupied, but it’s the same shit so his mind has plenty of time to wander. Current thought, Tara.

Really she’s an excellent mate choice, biologically speaking. If he were to ever put forth the effort to bring his satanic spawn into the world, Tara is his first choice after Wednesday Addams.

Tara’s probably the more reasonable choice.

It’s probably a good idea to start thinking about locking that shit down.

He didn’t actually plan on cashing in on his blackmail so soon but speed and actual discretion is key. After one text with the word ‘talk’ to Richard pulls up a chair beside Gilfoyle’s workspace.

“Is there something wrong with the server or something?”

It’s the most insulting he’s ever heard. He starts getting a text ready to send.

“What’s it like to fuck a giraffe?”

“Huh-what? Um…” Richard’s doing that lip thing again. “Why would I know that?”

He hits send on the picture text and watches Richard frown, then turn nearly as white as Jared, then look up at Gilfoyle in horror.

“I reiterate, how’s the giraffe fucking.”

“H-how did you get this?”

“I have my ways.”

But really they kissed for like a minute he had time to go take a piss before taking the photo.

Being vague is the best strategy though, because another scenario is he’s been following them around without them noticing.

Richard will probably assume the worst.

“Fuck.” Bingo. “Gilfoyle please don’t-”

“I’m going to propose a scenario to you Richard. A man asks their partner to marry him. How does he guarantee success?”

“Why would I know anything about that?”

“You managed to land Gumby. Clearly you did something right.”

“Ugh don’t… don’t call Jared Gumby. That’s just-”

“But giraffe is fine.”

“Just use his name!”

“Donald.”

“Well that’s… it’s kind of complicated.” Richard gets quiet. “So are you like, is this how you ask for advice?”

“I can send this photo to every-”

“Don’t! Jesus Gilfoyle you can just ask. You don’t have to left-hand path me.”

He’s not really sure how to respond to that, so he doesn’t. Instead he asks, “how’d you woo him? I imagine it required stilts.”

“Well,” man he has to stop licking his lips like that it’s disgusting, “it was after the whole Intersite thing? When… when they dropped us. I was upset.” Probably puking and crying, gross. “And… and Jared came to my room and we talked all night and… and then he kissed me.”

“He kissed you.” Richard nods.

Not quite the scenario he expected.

“We want it to stay on the- the down low. For now.”

“I’d be embarrassed too.”

“We’re not - we’re still figuring out funding and lawyers and… and it would be distracting.” Richard leans forward. “It hasn’t been that long so… I don’t really have advice if you wanted that but… if it feels right,” he shrugs.

“Richard I could’ve Googled better advice.”

“Well… then why don’t you?”

Fair point. He turns back to his computer and starts typing.

“Why’re you still here?”

“Ooh, um… you’re not… you won’t tell anyone?”

“We’ll keep in touch.”


	5. Chapter 5

He’s finalizing his order for a ring.

And, done. Nothing more to do than to wait.

And figure out what the hell happens when it comes.

He texts Richard the same photo from before along with ‘bring Lurch’.

Richard walks over with Jared in tow, grumbling and griping. Wonderful to see him in a good mood.

“Can’t you just ask like-”

“Sit.” He sits back as they pull up chairs. “I’m not mincing words. I have a ring.”

Jared’s face lights up like he’s the one getting proposed to. Not a chance in… well hell. “Oh! You’re proposing? That is so exciting.”

Curly haired fuckhead. “Wonder what gave you that idea.”

“Well,” Richard gulps. “A ring-”

“I could be summoning a demon from hell.” They both shrink in their chairs. “Richard we both know who blabbed.”

“You’re the one that’s blackmailing-”

He holds up a hand and Richard trails off. “Jared,” Jared nods and sits up straight. “Aside from the disgusting cheesy hearts and flowers and all that garbage, what makes a romantic declaration good?”

 

“Well, I suppose it’s the feeling behind the gesture. You see, for example, in Pretty Woman he climbs a fire escape despite a fear of heights. In Titanic, Leo lets go in order to allow the love of his life to live. Sometimes having a meaningful time or place or overcoming a fear is better than an expensive ring. You could give her a blue feather and as long as it means something to the both of you.”

Gilfoyle turns back to his computer. “Meaningful, huh.”

“She’ll love it.” He’s way too happy about this.

He has a lot of research to do. “Dismissed.”

“We’re not your advisers you can-”

“Dismissed.”

\--

He’s fiddling with the black velvet ring box. Tara’s on her way to arrive at four this afternoon. Just one last detail.

And then there’s Erlich looking like he has important news. Good time to butt in. “Everyone I have a new-”

“I am proposing to Tara.” He stands and looks at everyone, daring them to comment.

“Well this is my new cultivar,” he holds up his bong, “but thanks for making my news look like shit.”

Typical.

Dinesh shakes his head. “You’re fucking with us.”

He pulls out the ring, a red stone with a dark metal band.

“Holy shit.” Erlich gets way too close to get a good look.

“What the fuck is that?” Dinesh is in a fair amount of denial.

“A blood diamond.”

And here’s where saying less is more.

“Because of the color?” Jared, ever the optimist.

Erlich backs up. “Is that a fucking war diamond?”

He shrugs.

“No no I got it! There’s blood in it!” Man Erlich must be high as fuck.

See, here’s where, again, the truth doesn’t matter, because as long as he only gives vague hints they’ll think it’s the worst case scenario, which would be both, but really it’s neither. Diamonds are capitalism creating a false rarity to encourage sales and sway the sheep-like masses. The stone is a red opal in black titanium.

But they don’t need to know that.

“Tonight is the blood moon.”

“Oh this is… rather dark.” Jared’s looking conflicted. “But it is a proposal.”

“Why the fuck are you getting married?” Dinesh, ever the supportive one, can fuck himself.

“I know this answer.” Erlich’s opinion should be good. “Tara’s a ten, easy. Gilfoyle’s not getting this opportunity again. Lock this in while you can.”

An odd way to show support, but he’ll take it.

“When she gets here keep your fucking mouths shut. Better yet, just stay in the basement.”

He could definitely go for a beer. Or four.

Tinman’s about to get Glinda.

\--

He’s lying down on the roof, staring up at the full moon. It’s a decent night out… until someone starts coming up the ladder.

“Hey, why the fuck are you up here?”

Of course it’s Dinesh. Nosy bastard. “Because no one else was.”

“You scared her off didn’t you.” Dinesh lies down beside him.

Gilfoyle turns onto his stomach and looks out to the backyard where Tara is holding up her left hand and shrieking excitedly into her phone. She’s rather nimble in those heels.

“You tell me.”

“Holy fuck she said yes?” Really the confidence is overwhelming.

“Was there ever any doubt?”

The truth doesn’t matter, what he lets people see does.

“You’re such a cocky asshole.”

He’d probably give that title to Richard, but for different reasons. For now it’s a fun inside joke.

“It’s called being right. A concept I’m sure you’re unfamiliar with.”

“Fuck you.” Dinesh drums on the roof. He’s got something to say. “So you’ll be moving out?”

Ah, right. It’s going to be weird with everyone being farther away. He’ll have to harass Dinesh over email.

It won’t be the same.

But Tara needs to find a job here. And they ahve to find a place, and still have the ceremony. By then maybe Dinesh will find somebody.

Or he’ll still be a lonely fuck.

“By the way you’re included in the ceremony. Tara and I have chosen you as our virgin sacrifice.”

Once again, the truth doesn’t matter.

“What the fuck. Gilfoyle you fucking sick fuck I’m not even a virgin.”

“In this day and age, you’re close enough.”

What matters most is the reaction.


End file.
